She sits on my shoulder, a feathered sage whispering to my dreams about a tomorrow I can’t see and doors yet to be open. With the gentle touch of my hair resting against her owl feathers I feel the caress of angels who watch from Capricorn’s moon, and loneliness feels less empty. Outside my window trees write their wind stories across the glass. Without a sound the owl stirs the silence with its wings. Within me the knowing forms, it is time for her to leave to write her own page in the journal of midnight. ©Susie Clevenger 2024
Ain't that the truth! Some things can only be domesticated so much! Loved this Susie!
ReplyDeleteThis is true. A cat if left in the wild will go feral in one generation. It takes a dog two generations.
ReplyDeleteHa! A real live purring, scratching warning label! I love it--the whole tone is perfect.
ReplyDeleteSorry to be so late in visiting--a storm knocked my power out for more than 2 days. No power, no cable, no visit. :-(
This was my college roommate's cat to perfection--she had stalking down to an art.
ReplyDeleteYeah, that’s right. This
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